


It's not the end of the world (yet)

by rubberglue



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-20
Updated: 2013-09-20
Packaged: 2017-12-27 03:21:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/973701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubberglue/pseuds/rubberglue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU in which Andy doesn't die. PWP (sort of)</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's not the end of the world (yet)

Her eyes barely have time to adjust to the darkness of the room, a stark constrast to the blazing sunlight outside, when he whispers her name. It’s low, slightly rough and filled with all the conflicting emotions that characterised their relationship. Abbie snorts at the thought. A relationship is something celebrated, out in the open. A relationship doesn’t involve skulking around in motel rooms that smell faintly of Chinese takeout and alcohol. It most definitely doesn’t involve sleeping with the devil.

His hand reaches for her, and she goes to him despite the thoughts in her head.

"Abbie," he whispers, the sound sliding over her skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. "You came."

He acts like it’s a surprise every time but except for that one time when Ichabod and her were trapped in the basement of a church, she always comes. She tells herself not to but she can’t seem to help herself. That’s what happens when you sleep with the devil isn’t it?

She needs to feel in control so she grabs the back of his head and pulls him down to her. Their teeth clack together before their lips settle into their familiar positions. She bites down on his lip, drawing a gasp and a moan from him. His arms wrap tightly around her waist, pressing their bodies together.

"Your gun, Abbie?" He murmurs when his arms brush against it, but he doesn’t remove it from her. He knows better than to touch her weapon. With deft fingers, she unholsters her gun and moves away from him to place it on a wobbly table. She sucks in a breath, trying to calm her racing heart.

"What news do you have?"

He doesn’t move out from the shadows they were in but she can see him sigh. “Rumours only. But something is happening at the old brewery tomorrow night.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “That’s all you know?”

"That’s all I can say," he bites out. "You know how it is Abbie."

Frustration courses through her but she says nothing. There is no use. She unbuttons her blouse instead, letting it drop to the floor. He follows suit, pulling off the white shirt he has on. It’s like a game. For every piece of clothing she removes, he does the same. 

When they finally come together again, it’s desire, frustration, anger and love all rolled into one messy ball. She scratches his back as he slides into her. He bites at her dusky nipples, enough to cause some pain but not enough to make it unpleasurable.

"Give up, Abbie. You can’t stop the end of the world," he mutters against her breasts as he thrusts.

She nips his shoulder, ignoring his words. She rather focus on the feel of him in her, on the way he suckles at her breasts, on the way he makes sure she comes before him. The rough pad of his thumb brushes against her folds, pressing against her and she explodes, her fingernails digging deeper into his back.

She feels him shudder in response, gasping her names before he falls onto her, his weight both a burden and comfort. Sex always makes her feel affectionate so she runs her hand gently across the scratches she made earlier, wondering if they would leave scars, the way every moment with him leaves scars on her heart. He kisses her jaw tenderly, lifts himself off her before wrapping himself around her. He is affectionate too in the aftermath of sex.

Her eyes close. For just a few minutes, she wants to pretend that she’s an ordinary woman lying in bed with an ordinary man.

"What’s he doing?" Andy asks after awhile, intruding into her pretense.

"He discovered cable," she replies. That silly, soft part of her speaks. "Come with us."

He stiffens, then rolls away from her. “I can’t. He’ll find me. Then he’ll find you.”

"And this," she waves her hand at them, "this isn’t dangerous?"

Andy looks away, but not before she catches the anguish on his face. “You don’t have to come.”

"No I don’t," she says as she pulls on her clothes. She grabs her gun from the table, slipping it into her holster then grabs the door knob. "Maybe I won’t come again."

"The old brewery. 9pm. It’s a ritual to wake the leader of the coven. I’m sure you’ll figure out what to do." It’s his only response and she yanks the door open and walks out into the sunlight, tilting her head up to soak in the warmth.

**Author's Note:**

> Longjackets and I had a discussion about how much we were tired of the whole white dude/woc pairing and wondered where our moc/woc pairing was. Then we thought that had Andy survived, we'd ship him and Abbie. Then things became complicated, involving Abbie and Ichabod hunting whatever they were hunting and Andy being both Abbie's lover, her nemesis, trying to keep her alive and keep himself alive. Yeah, that probably didn't make much sense, but basically Abbie and Andy, lovers on different sides of the war.


End file.
